Poker Night
by phoebe9509
Summary: Poker night at Emily's house with the team.


Prentiss set the bowl of chips on the dining room table and checked the refrigerator to make sure she had enough beer everybody. It had been a rough couple of weeks at the BAU and they all decided that they needed a night to relax. So Rossi decided they should have a poker night; a night where they could leave all the worries and stresses of the job behind and just 'hang out.' Rossi also decided that they should have their poker night at Emily's house.

The doorbell rang and Emily welcomed JJ and Morgan into her condo. Morgan set the three boxes of pizza he was carrying on the coffee table and made his way to the fridge. He brought back three bottles of beer, one for each of the ladies and one for himself.

"Feel free to crash anywhere you want," Emily said. Morgan grabbed a seat on the couch while JJ sat down across from him in the chair. It wasn't long before the rest of the team arrived.

"Should we get this game started then?" Hotch asked with a mouth full of pizza.

~*~*~*~*~

Five hands into the night and Prentiss was winning. She had accumulated a healthy pile of change in front of her and wasn't shy about flaunting it.

"Well I'll raise you twenty," Reid said tossing two dimes into the center pile.

"I'm out," Garcia laid her cards on the table with disgust. "Anyone want another slice?" she asked headed towards the living room.

"Get me on," Prentiss called, "and I see your twenty and raise you twenty."

"Too rich for my blood," Rossi folds.

"I'm in," Hotch said shoving his bet forward.

"Me too," Morgan added. "What d'you got?"

Hotch laid down two pair, tens and fours, smiling. Morgan grimaced and threw down his pair of queens cursing.

"Read 'em and weep," Reid said laying down a full house. He reached toward the middle of the table beginning to pull back the money.

"Not so fast genius," Prentiss said grabbing his hand. "I believe my Royal Flush beats your full house." She beamed brightly as she pulled the coins out from under Reid's hands.

"She's cheating!" Reid said leaning back in his chair. "She has to be cheating. There is no other way she can win three hands in a row. Especially playing against me. I will all the time, and now I can't even win a hand? She is cheating!"

"You're just pissed because she's actually beating you kid," Morgan said taking a swig of his beer.

"I don't see a whole lot of money in your corner Morgan," Reid countered.

"You know what Reid," Morgan began.

"Okay, Garcia's deal," JJ interrupted the impending brawl between two of the best profilers ever. Sure they wouldn't remember anything on Monday but she didn't want to sit through the next ten minutes.

Penelope Garcia fumbled with the cards as she began to feel the effects of the four beers she had. Eventually everyone had their five cards and started betting and raising.

"What do you say we make this interesting?" Prentiss offered.

"How so?" Hotch asked looking past his cards.

"Losers do shots," she replied.

"What d'ya got?" Morgan asked.

"Vodka good?" Emily asked getting up and rummaging through the cupboards. She pulled out a bottle of clear liquid along with seven shot glasses. She spread them on the table and poured a good amount of the liquid into each.

"All right," she said picking up her cards, "let's do this."

~*~*~*~

Six hands and full bottle of vodka later, the scene was picturesque. Garcia laid on the couch aimlessly flipping through channels on Emily's TV while Ross joined in not really seeing the screen; JJ was sleeping in the rocking chair in the corner with her head tilted back and mouth hanging wide open. Morgan was fumbling through the fridge looking for something to eat; and Reid, Prentiss and Hotch still sat at the table, determined to finish the game.

"Prentiss, you've gotta bet!" Hotch said, his speech somewhat slurred from his intoxication.

"I'm thinking," she retorted. She examined the cards in her hands: a queen, two sixes, a three and an ace. That left her with basically nothing but a pair of sixes. But the boys didn't know that.

"I bet you ten bucks," she said triumphantly.

"You've only got $5.50," Reid pointed out. Hotch snickered behind his cards.

"Fine then I bet it all," she said pushing all her money to the center of the table.

Reid looked at his cards and tossed them down. "I'm done," he said. "I think I'll just wake up JJ and head on home. Thanks for inviting us Em, but I can promise you I am never playing poker with you ever again." The three of them laughed. Spencer walked over to the chair where JJ was napping and roused her from her slumber. "Time to go JJ."

"What? Oh okay," JJ grumbled. "Thanks for a great night Emily. I'll see you all on Monday." JJ and Reid left and it wasn't long after that Morgan and Rossi followed, leaving Garcia asleep on the couch and Emily and Hotch to finish the game.

"So you're in for $5.50?" Hotch asked. He counted out what he believed to be the same amount and threw it into the pot.

Emily threw two of her cards down and grabbed the top two off the deck. Immediately her eyes lit up. Yeah, a flush, she thought. I can beat him with this. "I want to raise," she demanded.

"You don't have anymore money left Prentiss." Hotch pointed out. He saw the look in Emily's eyes and knew she had a good hand, but he was fairly certain that he could beat it. He looked down at the four sevens in his hand and tried not to smile.

"What can I wager then?" She looked around and spotted Garcia lying on the couch. She was lying with her head propped up against a pillow and her legs covered by an afghan. "If I win, you have to kiss Garcia," she finally blurted out, "with tongue." Emily had no idea where that had come from, but she figured it would be pretty funny to see and even funnier to hear Hotch explain.

"What? No way!"

"Oh come on," she pleaded. "You can pick mine."

Hotch stopped to consider his options. Anything? He looked over at Emily and noticed the way her t-shirt showed the slightest bit of her stomach, the way her hair refused to stay tucked behind her ear. He has been ignoring his feelings for her for a while now, for obvious reasons, but he was drunk and right now no one else was around, and he didn't care. "Okay," he spoke as the idea hit him, "if I win, you give me a lap dance."

Emily should have protested, she knew this would come back to bite her in the ass, but she was too drunk to care. Plus the sight of Hotch in a white wife beater was starting to get to her. "I'm in."

"Show me what you got," Hotch said noticing the irony in that statement. Emily laid down her flush and sat back in her chair, arms crossed against her chest. She was feeling pretty good knowing that it was very unlikely that Hotch could beat her.

Hotch decided to play along. "Damn," he cursed under his breath glancing from his cards to Emily's face and back. "Just one question," he added before a huge grin spread across his face, "what kind of music does one do a lap dance to?" He laid down his cards and stood up. "Shall we go to your room?"

Emily's eyes went wide and her mind went blank. There was no possible way that he could have beaten her, no way on this Earth. She stared at the cards and closed her eyes. "Okay, let's do this."

Hotch was a little surprised; he hadn't expected her to agree to this. "Look Prentiss, you don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"No you won, now you get your prize." Emily took one final shot of vodka and grabbed Hotch's hand pulling him towards her bedroom. She pulled him in and shut the door and locked it. "Don't want Garcia walking in on this," she said when Hotch gave her a confused look.

"Okay then," he said taking a seat on the bed. He was a little nervous. He never thought she would actually be willing to give him a lap dance, and he has never been in her room before. It worried him a little bit. What if he couldn't control himself?

"Well if we're going to do this we might as well do this right," Emily said. She opened her closet and grabbed a few items and disappeared into the bathroom. She returned a few minutes later dressed in an outfit that was forever etched into Hotch's brain. The skirt she wore was tight enough to show off her curves but not too tight and showed off the greater portion of her legs. Her top was tighter then he'd ever remember her wearing before; it was blue with lace edged along the bottom and top.

Emily turned the radio on her alarm clock on and searched until she found a suitable song, one with a strong, steady beat. "Comfy?" she asked Hotch, all he could do was nod, "Good."

As the music filled the room Emily began to sway her hips to the beat, always keeping a watchful eye on Hotch's face. She walked over to the bed and stood in front of him, one leg on either side of his.

Hotch's breath caught in his throat as he came face to face with Emily's breasts. He wanted to reach for them, but had enough self-control to restrain himself. Emily saw his actions and smiled coyly. She lowered herself so she was seated on his lap and pressed her hands into his chest. She grabbed his shirt and ripped it over his head, relishing in the rippling muscles underneath.

"Prentiss, what are you doing?" Hotch asked.

"Shh," Emily warned placing a finger on his lips. She ground her hips against his own and stood up, stepping away from her victim. Hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt, Emily slowly pulled the garment down her hips and let it drop to the floor. She couldn't remember when exactly this whole thing changed from a lap dance to a striptease, but at this point she didn't care. She needed him and she hoped he needed her as well.

Hotch couldn't suppress the moan that escaped his mouth. It'd been a year and a half since his divorce was finalized and it'd been even longer since he'd seen anyone of the opposite sex naked. The sight of Emily Prentiss standing in front of him in nothing more than a pair of boy shorts and a tight tank top was beginning to get to him.

"Like what you see?" Emily asked. She had no idea why she was acting like this, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the long standing sexual tension between her and Hotch, but whatever it was it made Emily braver than she'd ever been, especially around Hotch.

"God yes," Hotch said. He watched, dumbstruck, as she walked closer to him and took her seat on his lap again. She ran her fingers along his collarbone and up to his earlobe. As her mouth latched onto the skin on his neck, Hotch's hips bucked upward creating a greater friction between their bodies.

"Now, now, let's not get jumpy," she smiled. Her mouth traveled down his neck and stopped at his shoulder. She felt his hands run up her back and back down to cup her ass. "What's your hurry?" she asked innocently.

"I can't take this anymore," Hotch said crushing his lips to Emily's. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her backwards with him onto the bed. In a tangle of limbs. Emily ran her fingers down his chest tracing the outline of the muscles she found there.

~*~*~*~*~

Garcia awoke the next morning with a pounding in her head that sounded like a construction crew was hard at work. She pulled the blanket that was wrapped around her legs up and over her head to block out the sunlight.

"Sleep well?" Emily asked thrusting a cup of black coffee at one of her best friends.

"Wonderful, it's the waking up part that sucks," Garcia said. She took the cup with as much of a smile as she could muster. "How about you?

"It wasn't too terrible," Emily smiled. Both she and Garcia glanced toward her bedroom door as Hotch came out wearing his boxers and a lopsided grin. Immediately Garcia's head snapped to Emily who wore an exact replica of that smile.

"What the hell happened last night?" Garcia asked, slowly looking from one to the other. "You didn't…you…OH MY GOD!!!!" Hotch and Emily blushed bright red and looked at each other. "I've got to call Morgan!!!"


End file.
